CHAPTER 4: Out of the Shadows (Part 4)

The next couple of days felt more like a single afternoon. After his encounter with Neville in the Potions classroom, people had become more friendly towards him - some because of their current stance against Longbottom, and others because they suddenly wanted to be friends with him.

At first, he was tempted to tell them to piss off, like he always did. He'd never been one for friends, well, at least not after the incident on his first Halloween at Hogwarts, however he stopped himself before he did anything. For four years, he'd been an outcast, the guy at the back of the class that no one paid attention to - unless they needed an essay written. This was a fresh start, the beginning of a clean slate that would define his future at Hogwarts, and in the Wizarding World.

He was finally starting to make a name for himself and be known as more than the orphan son of the war hero couple that were brutally murdered in their own home after the war was over. His actions right now were critical, and if he told every person that reached out to him to stick it up their arse - well, it wouldn't be smart.

So he forced himself to suck it up and play nice, he smiled and laughed when the horde of fakes congratulated him with a slap on the back and made short conversation where he pretended to care about what was going on in their lives. It was harder than any spell or potion he'd had to master over his time in the castle, and it made him want to vomit, but he did it anyway.

He forced himself to keep this attitude with everyone in the school, even the teachers, and only dropped it around the other Slytherins in his year. Somehow, he was surprised to find that he was physically unable to keep this facade around with them, and was much more comfortable being his old, grumpy self. The others also seemingly agreed, as they acted incredibly suspicious of him whenever he was even slightly nice to them. Besides, it was impossible not to mock Malfoy for all the shit he did.

Classes were as boring as ever, though the teachers became heavily interested of him once he stopped holding back and actually tried his best - but even then, he was still behind Granger in some of the classes (the girl was smart!).

Longbottom hadn't done anything to retaliate of him, though that didn't mean the boy didn't think about it. It seemed that their latest encounter had left him and the weasel obsessed with him, and they were even thinking of getting him back somehow. Harry was actually amused by this, and not even the least bit concerned, not even if he didn't have a device that let him know when, where, and how it was going to happen.

He constantly listened in on conversations between the trio, but nothing came up, however, he did manage to overhear some conversations that he assumed were supposed to be need to know only. The three of them always talked about The Order, whatever the hell that was, and there was some sort of strange static that interfered with the sound every once in a while. Given on the context of the conversations, Harry thought that it was some sort of place or hideout, but wasn't entirely sure.

He, of course, left these small conversations out of his daily reports to the other Slytherins.

With the term only starting and there being extremely few assignments, Harry managed to finish all seventeen essays that were commissioned of him by Wednesday, and started giving them out on Thursday. He usually charged ten galleons per assignment, unless it was a final project, which was extremely overpriced but since he gave guaranteed Outstandings, he had plenty of customers. It was good business of him, raking in an average of four hundred galleons per week, though at the beginning of the term it was slightly lower since people usually gave up and paid for their homework until after the first month. He had given out fifteen of the essays on Thursday and still had two left, one for Finnegan and another for Parkinson, both of which he'd hand out today before classes begun.

Having finished the essays, Harry spent the rest of his time advancing his homework, knowing that more essay requests would come in on the weekend, read up on post-OWL content, and practised in his simulations inside the Room of Requirement. After he was done, he'd go over to the second-floor hallway and waited for Michael to come out of Umbridge's office with more Essence of Murtlap for the kid. The two would sit there for around half an hour and just talk as Michael calmed down before heading back to their respective dormitories.

In a way, it was a nice escape of his life. For once, he didn't feel as if he had to be constantly on-guard and behind a thousand walls. But at the same time, every time he heard the kid sob or saw his mangled hand, his hatred for Umbridge grew exponentially. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about her, not now and not for a very long time.

The Great Hall

September 14th, 1995

8:00 a.m.

So, when Harry stepped inside the Great Hall and saw the pink fiend, looking over them with that sickly smile, he had to temper all his urges to choke her with his bare hands.

He took his spot at the end of the table and began serving himself his breakfast, some scrambled eggs with toast - a bit ordinary, but still the perfect way to start the morning. He ate in peace, managing to catch Finnegan's eye and subtly signal him to meet him before the Defence period they had this morning. His sacred morning time was interrupted when Parkinson took the spot in front of him.

"Potter." She began, pleased with herself. Too pleased.

"Parkinson," he replied wearily. "Well, I guess it's good you're here, even if you are shit company."

Pansy rolled his eyes at him as he ruffled through his bag and found the rolls of parchment.

"Here," he handed her the essay.

"Huh," she said as she skimmed through it. "This isn't half bad, but that's not why I'm here."

"No, I know you've taken a liking to finding out new ways to annoy me."

"I mean… true. But you really have no clue what you did, do you?"

"I've done a fair few things in my life, you're gonna have to be a little more specific."

Pansy half-scoffed, half-laughed. "Your little speech the other day. You might not have meant it to, but it pretty much single-handedly knocked Malfoy off the pedestal he'd been on for the past four years!"

"He did that himself," Harry said, unfazed. "I mean, who picks a fight with the guy who just knocked out the top dog of the year?"

"Not because of what you did, but because of what you said. You showed the others, hell you showed me that there's a leader inside you after all. And even though most are denying it, mostly Daphne, they're starting looking up to you."

"So… what? You want me to dye my hair blond and become the new Malfoy? Pass."

"Not that, obviously." Pansy leaned in and whispered, so only he could listen. "But sooner than you think, people are going to have to start taking sides, you're going to want a lot of people having your back, and this is how you do it."

Harry looked up from his food, and stared at her with a dangerous expression. "I don't have any side."

"Like I said, sooner or later, you'll have to chose."

"And why do you care?"

"Because I think we might be on the same one. Whether you want it or not, war is coming, He is coming, and when he does, you won't be given a choice. So make your own before he makes it for you."

"If that's so, then what side are you on?"

Pansy smiled. "Spoilers."

Harry analysed her acutely, looking for any tells and coming out short.

"You're a smart guy, Potter. I'd even go as far as calling you the brightest, except that I'm here with you. Start thinking long-term and stop focusing on irrelevant matters, no one's gonna care about your pride once all hell breaks loose."

Having said that, Pansy grabbed one of the pieces of toast on his plate, winked at him, and left him alone on the table.

Parkinson's words stayed with him throughout the rest of the day, making it hard to pay attention to anything other than them. He didn't know what she was trying to tell her, he hadn't lied when he told her he hadn't taken a side in the coming conflict. Obviously, he wasn't going to side with the group that murdered his parents, but he wasn't stupid enough to take a stand against the most powerful dark wizard in recorded history, that's what Gryffindor heroes like Longbottom and Granger were for.

Was Parkinson trying to tell him that she was secretly against Voldemort? That wouldn't make any sense, she was as bigoted as most of the other Slytherins and her father was a Death Eater. Maybe she thought that just because he was a Slytherin, he was on the Voldemort's side. It was certainly possible, he'd come across his fair share of prejudice just because of the house he'd been sorted into, but it mostly came from people outside the house assuming his allegiances rather than people inside it. The people inside it actually thought that he would immediately be a Dumbledore supporter, that was one of the biggest reasons why he became an outcast since the moment he sat on the house table for the first time.

And if Parkinson thought he was a Voldemort supporter, what would he do? Harry didn't think there would be a world where he would even consider it, but what would happen if Voldemort decimated Dumbledore and any others who support him? Would that be the situation where he would finally give in and join the Dark Lord? It was the smart thing to do, but the mere thought of it sent bile to his throat.

Would he join whatever resistance there's left? Live the rest of his life in hiding and hope to someday defeat Voldemort somehow? He wasn't particularly fond of that idea either. Would he run out of the country? That was the smart idea, but it would take a lot of planning, and he'd have to wait at least until he was of age, not only to be able to use his magic freely, but to also be able to handle any movements of his Gringotts wealth. Without any money, he wouldn't be able to even survive on the outside.

He didn't know. He'd been putting off this conversation out of his head ever since Longbottom claimed that Voldemort had returned, and had opted to focus on the present. But now, he'd spent hours thinking of the question… what if? What if the war broke out a week from now? A month from now? A year from now? He'd always assumed that there would be a few years after graduation before the war fully escalated, but was he willing to take that chance? And if push came to shove, would he actually become just like the madmen who killed his family?

He wasn't sure, and he felt sick because of it. His parents were war heroes, and the whole Potter lineage had been one extremely progressive and constantly on the right side of history. A part of him felt that he should've been able to claim that he would never join Voldemort without even hesitating it, and yet, he wasn't even sure of that. A pang of shame spread all over his body as he felt himself disappoint his parents, but he shook it off before it could affect him much.

With the war on the forefront of his mind, Harry opted to not advance on any homework or reading that he had to do and instead spent most of the time running simulations against Death Eaters, slightly increasing the difficulty and adding one more enemy to the roster. He lost the first couple rounds, badly, the change of pace messing with his game. But as time went on, he managed to slowly improve until reaching a comfortable point of victories - that were still incredibly hard to obtain.

Taking a small water break, Harry pulled out the Remembrall from his bag and started listening to the voices emanating from the device.

"-blin Rebellion of 1752 was lead by Nagnok the third after there was a breach of the previous peace contract settled by wizards and goblins back in 1615. This rebellion lasted for five years and four different Ministers for Magic. The first one in the position was Minister Albert Boot, who ended up resigning a year into the rebellion due to how poorly he'd been managing it. After Boot, Basil Flack took over, but only-"

"Can you stop!?" A male voice snapped, most likely Longbottom.

"I'm studying." Granger stated determinedly. "And you should too, Binns said there would be an exam in a week."

"Blimey, Hermione! There's still seven days left, and you already want us studying?"

"Yes!" She snapped. "The OWLs are at the end of the year, and you two have been taking the past four years like a joke. And if you don't start studying now, you're going to be bugging me the night before for help, and I'm telling you now, Ronald Weasley, I am not helping you this time."

"What!?"

"It's about time that you two grow up! I'm not going to be the one taking your OWLs, and if you don't even bother at least trying, I won't bother helping you when you're whining for my help."

"How are you studying like nothing's wrong?" Longbottom asked, annoyance in his tone.

"Neville," Hermione spoke softly to him. "I know that you want to help, but there's really nothing we can do. The Order already told us to focus on our studies and leave the war to them. There's nothing we can do."

"So you're just going to sit back and read while the world falls apart on us!?"

"I never sa-"

"Look around us, Hermione! The war is already here! Who do you think sent Umbridge here? Who do you think is manipulating Fudge? We're stuck here, letting that bitch do whatever he wants, while the ministry continues taking power away from Dumbledore, and when Voldemort is getting stronger! I don't care what goblin killed what wizard three hundred years ago! I don't care about the OWLs or our courses! We should be out there, helping, making sure that no more people die from any Death Eater!"

"So what? You want to just quit Hogwarts and become some vigilante!? Have you lost your mind, Neville? Potter wiped the floor with you while using most of his focus on making jokes, and you want to take on Voldemort?"

"What's Potter got to do with this?" Longbottom asked dangerously.

"What does- Neville, Potter is a subpar student who has gotten barely Acceptables on his exams ever since first year! And yet, he easily beat you! But not because he's a better dueller than you. You're erratic! Impulsive! Constantly angry! Like this, even a third-year could beat you in a duel!"

"Thank you, Hermione, I'm glad your faith in me is as strong as ever."

"Look…" There was a long pause, in which Harry would have thought that the spell might have been broken if Hermione hadn't spoken up a few moments later. "If you really want to help. Well- Ron and I… we've been thinking of a way."

"Don't bring me into this!"

"What are you talking about?"

Hermione sighed. "You're right when you say that the war is already here, and sooner or later, it's going to escalate even more than how it is right now. If we're going to fight V- V- Vol-" Hermione paused. "Voldemort. If we're going to fight V-Voldemort, we've got to be able to defend ourselves. And if Umbridge refuses to teach us how, then we need someone who will."

A drawn out pause fell upon the room.

"Me?" Longbottom said in disbelief. "Are you mental?"

"You're the only option we have," Granger insisted. "The teachers aren't even daring to cross Umbridge. She's not teaching us how to defend ourselves, she's not even teaching us how to pass our OWLs. But you- you're the best Defence student in the entire school, you've been through more things than most wizards go through in their lifetime."

"Yes, but you two were also there!"

"Not always, and not all the way. In the end, it was you who confronted Quirrell. You who killed the basilisk and destroyed the diary. You who produced the Patronus that saved our lives. You who beat the Triwizard Tournament. You who was forced to face V-Voldemort and fight for your life in the graveyard. You're our best choice, our only choice."

"I can't-"

"Why not?" She insisted. "You just told me that you wanted to help with the war rather than pretend nothing's going on! This is the way, it's the best way you can help, and if we pull this off perfectly, it will be just as big as going on any other mission with the Order!"

"I just can't. Even if I wanted to, which I'm not particularly feeling up to doing it after how big an arse everyone here is being, I can't. If you're asking me to teach you or Ron, I'll do it, but no one else."

"But-"

"No! Don't ask me again, Hermione. Please."

After that conversation, a tense silence grew and Harry decided to stop listening. He reflected on what he had heard, Granger and Weasley were trying to convince Longbottom to become the unofficial Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher for the students who don't like Umbridge. This wasn't the approach Harry thought they would take, but it was definitely their stance against Umbridge.

The problem with it was that it was too… tame. I mean, sure, on its own, a Defence club wasn't a bad idea, far from it. Mediocre students could learn a spell or two from a less mediocre student. And it would definitely create an environment where everyone sees Umbridge as the enemy and sides against her, in case anything ever happened in the future.

But there were plenty of holes in this plan, and it wasn't strong enough to work as a good opening salvo in the war against Umbridge. Thankfully, Longbottom was still reluctant, but knowing Granger, she wouldn't stop until Longbottom agreed. He had to convince her of the contrary before it was too late.

The thought of telling the others vaguely crossed his mind, but he immediately crossed it out. Talking this over with the others was unnecessary, and it would only complicate things. Sure, it was a bit brusque to ambush Granger and reveal that he knows their plans, but it wasn't really that bad an idea. Besides, if he managed to convince Granger, and even offer other ideas to it, he could be the one that controls what the trio does. Which would make their resistance against Umbridge stronger and also make sure that their involvement is better hidden.

The only problem was getting Granger alone. She was always surrounded by the two boys, it was almost impossible to get her alone. Except…

Harry sprung out of his seat and wordlessly summoned his bag to himself. Scouring through it, the old piece of parchment he was looking for.

"I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good."

The Marauders Map formed right before his eyes and he immediately opened it, going straight to the library where he found the three dots he was looking for, surrounded by a sea of other people who were most likely cramming late at night.

Granger was a prefect, and, if he was lucky, she and Weasley had rounds tonight. If they did, they'd have to leave at nine-thirty sharp, and they would be on duty for two and a half hours. That would be the perfect time to talk to her, he'd have to get rid of Weasley first, but that wasn't a particularly tricky challenge.

So he waited, not even bothering to continue his training. It was close to nine, so instead of doing something productive in the half hour he had free, he stared at the map the whole time. Granted, it was only the first fifteen minutes that his eyes were glued to the trio before he explored, surprised at how many people he found uncomfortably close inside broom closets and empty classrooms. He'd never actually used the map on his free time, using it exclusively when he needed to leave the common room after hours.

Harry almost cheered when he saw Granger and Weasley separate themselves from Longbottom as the three were making their way to the Gryffindor common room, and they soon began their rounds.

It wasn't until quarter past ten, that he finally decided to make his move. First, he made sure that there were no other prefects or students nearby, and right when he found the sweet spot, he commanded the room to materialize on the hallway where the two prefects were about to turn to. Making sure that the room was as dark as possible, he inched the door open and waited for the two of them to pass him.

Harry could feel his heart in his throat as the light from Weasley's wand almost caught him, and almost let himself sigh in relief when none of them caught it. He wordlessly cast a cushioning charm on the floor below Ronald before stunning him. "Ron!" Granger shouted, but Harry barely paid attention to it as the moment the spell left his wand, he closed the door, which had been silenced by him earlier, and commanded the room to materialize on the opposite side of the corridor.

"It's not going to work," he said calmly as he stepped out of the room, leaving the door open so that the room wouldn't leave.

"Who's there?" Hermione trained his wand on his general direction, but he knew she couldn't see him as he was still hidden by the shadows.

"It's a cute idea, making Longbottom a pseudo teacher for other students. But it's not going to work."

"Potter?" She asked, slowly walking towards him.

"The one and only," he said with a grin before stepping back into the room and commanding it to materialize behind Granger. "You're not going to catch me, so don't even bother trying."

Hermione quickly turned around, her eyes lit up with alarm. "How are you doing that? It's impossible to apparate inside-"

"Hogwarts, yeah, I know. You know, people keep telling me that, I don't know why?" He stepped in the room for one final time and commanded it to open on the wall right behind Granger.

Harry peered out, and once he was sure that she wouldn't turn back, he swiftly stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him, before casually leaning on the wall. "I guess the people who wrote that book just weren't trying hard enough."

The moment Granger finally spotted him, she walked right up to him, her wand still aimed at his chest.

"Oh," he pushed himself from the wall and walked to the other end of the corridor. "I wouldn't do that if I were you

"What do you want?"

"To talk."

"About what?"

"What you and your happy-go-lucky little friends are planning on doing."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." She stated primly.

"You don't? How about we go to Umbridge's office, maybe you'll remember your conversation from earlier tonight if I tell her what you're planning."

"How do you know about that?" She eyes him carefully, her chin raised up in defiance.

"Are you really asking me that? When you talked about your plan in a filled library?"

"We were whispering," she defended herself.

"Well, then, learn to whisper quieter, will you? But that doesn't matter, the point is, I know now, and I'm telling you, it won't work."

"And why is that?"

"Well, partly because Longbottom is a grade A moron who couldn't teach a five-year-old how to crawl."

"You have no idea of everything he's been through, all the times he's had to fight for his life, and won. Neville is a great wizard, far greater than you."

"Make sure to tell him that the next time I knock him on his arse with a simple tripping hex, I'm sure it'll help his greatly damaged self-esteem." Harry grinned at her, and Hermione looked like she wanted to hex him herself. "But Longbottom's not the main reason why this will fail." He continued before she could say anything. "Do you really think that Umbridge hasn't planned ahead for this? She'll stop your little club before it even gets started, she'll do everything in her power to make sure it doesn't happen."

"Then we'll do it behind her back."

"And what if she finds out? I don't think you're noticing what's happening here, but the Ministry is only going to get more and more involved at Hogwarts. If you think that Umbridge won't have the power to expel someone in a month, you're living in candy land."

"She won't catch us."

"And what if she does? You'll get expelled, Longbottom will get expelled, and everyone else involved as well. You'll all get your wands snapped, and your magic bound, and you won't be able to cast a single spell for the rest of your life. Is that what you want?"

"That won't happen, Dumbledore wouldn't let it."

"Maybe so, but do you think people would like to take that chance?"

"What's this to you? You're a Slytherin, one that's suddenly become chummy with the others."

"Trust me, we are far from chummy, and I care, because I want Umbridge out, just like the lot of you. You shouldn't be trying to undermine her, you should be trying to get rid of her, find a way to get her out of this school!"

"You think we haven't thought of that? Even some adults have tried to figure out how, but it's impossible. Not even Fudge himself can stop her now, so the best thing we can do, is learn how to defend ourselves rather than listening to her ridiculous lectures she calls teachings."

Harry gritted his teeth. A part of him knew that she was right, there was no way of taking down Umbridge, he'd come to the same conclusion himself. But he needed her out, he couldn't allow her to continue torturing any children she wishes to. If anyone could find a way to do the impossible, it was those three.

"You have to try! Your study group won't do a single thing if Umbridge is left in power!"

"Oh, I know," she told him, having been slowly gaining more and more confidence as their conversation went on. "But if everything goes well, we won't have to."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that we're doing the Defence club, whether you like it or not."

"I won't let you," he told her. "I'll tell Umbridge."

She analysed him cautiously, her eyes finally landing on his as a smile spread across her face. "No, you won't. You want Umbridge out, just as bad as we do, except you're too cowardly to do it yourself, so you want us to deal with it. You expose us, you're stuck with Umbridge."

Fuck, she was smart.

"You would've done well in Slytherin." He conceded, slightly begrudgingly.

"I know," she told him. "The hat considered putting me there."

As Harry was left speechless by the revelation, Granger walked back to Weasley's prone body, still wearing that smug smile on her face.

"Go back to your dormitory, Potter. Oh, and five points from Slytherin for being out after curfew, and ten for attacking a prefect!"